Lessons from knitting

I am obsessed with how profound ordinary life becomes when we pay attention. Every moment of every day can teach us something new. I am always so grateful for the moments that I am able to slow down and get quiet enough to absorb this magic. I was lucky enough to catch one of these moments recently.

This year, I have begun the journey of learning to knit. It has been so fun and also quite a bit of frustration has surfaced. To be a beginner again is not always easy. I love learning and gaining new skills. I also am challenged by how difficult it can be to not feel competent. Who knew knitting would teach me so much!?

I have to laugh at how simple of a lesson I learned recently while knitting a sock. I was so excited because I finally know how to do most of the steps without asking my incredibly patient and kind partner, who was basically born knitting, what to do next. This is my fourth attempt at a sock. Not the simplest of projects but not terribly difficult either.

This time around, I felt like I was making very quick progress. I was bouncing back and forth between knitting and reading on my day off so I was paying attention but apparently not quite enough. After thinking I completed the ankle part, I inspected my work and noticed that somehow I had knitted a stitch directly across the opening. You know, the hole where your foot has to fit through to put the sock on?! Well it was divided in two by one thread of yarn! I had somehow managed to do this without noticing and proceed to knit far too many rows after.

Immediately upon noticing, I was defeated. I knew I had two options; take apart the whole thing and start over or take apart each stitch until I could remedy my mistake. I was so annoyed at first that I immediately jumped to my first option. I beat myself up a bit for how much time I wasted knitting after this silly mistake. If I was paying attention, I would have quickly stopped and fixed it right away. But that is clearly not what happened.

I decided to just set the project down for a bit and take my dog for a walk before doing anything. I quickly realized that I did not want to take the whole thing apart. I wanted to slowly and painstakingly take it apart stitch by stitch until I returned to my mistake. The problem was, in the past when I had made a mistake, I immediately handed it off to my partner to fix it for me. She has shown me several times how to take a stitch apart but it always seemed too complicated to me. It was much easier to have her do it for me. But there always comes a time in life when we have to stop handing our mistakes to someone else to fix.

This was that time for me. As I slowly and clumsily started taking my sock apart stitch by stitch, I noticed how much focus was required of me to reverse my work. I have gotten to the point where I can comfortably knit without intense focus, but this was very different. Again, I was a beginner. Ever so slowly, I started to get the hang of taking each stitch apart. It still was slow and focused work.

Stitch by stitch, line by line, I unraveled the sock, working my way back to the origin of my mistake. 30 minutes later, I had taken apart half of what I had created, but I was so proud of myself! I paused and reflected on what I had just done. In an odd way, I felt like I really learned to knit in this moment. I understood that in taking the time I did to undo my work, I felt more confident than ever. Now I know, whatever mistakes I make in the future, and I’m sure there will be many, I have the skills and patience to work my way back to them and correct them.

It is just like in life when we make a mistake, big or small, we always have a choice to make. We can run to someone else and beg them to fix it. We can decide that one mistake is one too many and give up. Or we can slowly, deliberately and often uncomfortably reverse our steps until we can correct it ourselves. There is no right or wrong way to do this in life. Of course, there is a lot of nuance when it comes to mistake making. But I really appreciated how this little knitting mistake reminded me of the later option.

When we have made a misstep, it is so easy to ignore it, especially when we are distracted and unfocused. This can lead to things getting complicated down the road, especially the longer it takes for us to notice. But how beautiful that of all the options we have, simply retracing our steps forces us to do all the things that life asks of us while healing.

First, we must pause and reflect on our options. Sometimes all it takes is a pause in life. One moment of stepping back or zooming out to see the full picture. When we get too caught up in the weeds, it can be hard to see beyond them. Pausing is always the first step in seeing clearly.

Then it requires focus once we decide to retrace our steps. We can no longer split our attention between many things when back tracking. This intentionality is effortful but so helpful if we allow it to move us. Choosing to slowly unstitch our work, stitch by stitch, requires time. It cannot be rushed or sidestepped. There are no shortcuts if you want to maintain the integrity of your work.

Of course, this moving backwards in life, the unwinding of something we have created, takes immense patience. It can be uncomfortably hard to seemingly destroy something you have put effort into. Sometimes grief can even surface when doing this work. I believe this is why it must be done with focus and patience. If this work was effortless, we would bypass all the feelings that arise and ask to be felt.

But once we make it to the mistake, there is often a sense of accomplishment and relief. Even though we have so much less built than before, we can admit to how much we learned undoing our work. This undoing, stitch by stitch, forces us to look at our choices and actions one by one. And when we see something up close but from a different perspective, we gather so much information. Information that helps us to move forward with more intention and confidence in the future.

When we know how to create that is one thing. When we know how to deconstruct that is an entirely different thing. And when we know how to both create and destroy, we realize that is all there is. Life really is built on moments of creating and moving forward followed by moments of unraveling and moving backwards. Stitching and unstitching, over and over and over again. Making mistakes and moving forward only to know you have to move backwards to correct that very mistake before you can move forward again. How beautiful and frustrating it can be?!

This silly little sock project reminded me that I am fully capable of doing both; moving forward and slowly unstitching backwards. And that sometimes I learn a bit more when I am seemingly moving backwards. When I am not creating or building, I am still finding value in the work when I attend to it with patience, focus and intentionality. What a gift to witness this process while simply knitting.

The profound that is nestled inside the ordinary is never lost on me. Knitting a sock is reminding me how life works. How impossibly hard it is to move forward without making mistakes. And how slowly walking back to those mistakes can be a beautiful time of reflection and learning. So when you’re ready to move forward again, the same mistake doesn’t keep repeating itself. Stitch, unstitch, stitch, repeat.